Mon Lapin, Mon Animal, Mon Bien-aimé
by Whale-Graham
Summary: Arthur has been living on the streets for months when he is approached by Francis, a mysterious Frenchman who kidnaps him and instructs Arthur that he belongs to him now. Warning: Human AU, Francis is very OOC. This story will contain torture, yaoi, and possibly some BDSM. I promise the story is better than the summary.


A/N: Alright, so this is my first fanfic that I'm writing solo. And my first yaoi fic. And my first fic with a coherent story (probably). Hope you enjoy! (^^) I appreciate any reviews, because I always want to improve! And let me know of any errors in my French, I took it in school for three years but I'm nowhere near fluent, any help is appreciated! I apologize in advance for any typos, because there will probably be some.

Warning (more of a notice really): Well, Francis is very OOC, just because I think it's fun to have him be insane and sadistic. This is a human AU, so obviously I'm using the human names. This is rated M for violence and probably sexual content, because while Francis may be insane, he's still Francis Bonnefoy (honhonhon…) But that stuff will be in future chapters.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. I am not making money off of this. Hetalia is owned by its actual owners whose names escape me at this time. But they own it, not me.

Arthur pulled his thin jacket closer to him, _Bloody hell, why does it have to be so cold?_ Of course it would be cold, it was mid-November in England, it wouldn't be too unusual for it to get near 0 degrees Celsius. _Not that knowing that helps me at all, having common knowledge about climate doesn't make food appear. It doesn't make a new coat appear. And it certainly doesn't make a better life appear._

Arthur had been living on the streets for almost six months now, getting by through begging and hoping that people still had some good in them. But the amount of meager donations he received had been dropping in the past month, and now he was barely getting enough to afford a meal at a soup kitchen once every couple days.

He had been thinking over his situation a lot lately, but his pride was still intact enough to keep him from turning to anything lower than begging. He knew he could probably make a little more if he looked into... alternative methods of earning money, but he just couldn't bring himself to sell his own body.

"Mais pourquoi? Tu es très joli, tu pouvais être riche," a voice called from the shadows of a nearby alleyway.

Arthur ignored the voice, there was no way it was talking to him. It was probably just his imagination anyway. He was sure he hadn't been speaking, and there's no way that anyone was reading his mind; he didn't buy into all that supernatural bullshit. "Perhaps you should, Arthur, it makes life much more exciting, non?" the voice said again.

This time Arthur turned and saw a man step out of the shadows. He had shoulder length blonde hair, nearly the same color as Arthur's, sharp blue eyes, and some stubble along his jawline. He was fashionably dressed, and gave off a feeling that he was not someone easily forgotten.

"I'm sorry, were you speaking to me?" Arthur asked, trying his hardest to be polite. He may be a beggar now, but he was once a gentleman and always placed great value on having good manners. _Look where it got me.._

"Bien sûr I was speaking to you, Arthur! I even used your name, are you really that untrustworthy?" The man responded, sounding a little incredulous; from his accent and word choice he was obviously French.

"I have to be to survive. Trusting too much gets people killed around here," Arthur responded coolly. He tried his best to clear his mind because the man had seemed to respond to his thoughts before, and Arthur was feeling a little uneasy being around him.

The man laughed, "I suppose so, but being rude and not answering someone when they talk to you can put you in the ground just as quickly." Suddenly Arthur was pulled into the alley and pinned with his back to the wall. Arthur began to struggle and fight against the man, but not only was the man stronger than his lean body let on, Arthur was weakened from malnutrition from the past months. The man began laughing again, "If you promise not to run I'll stop pinning you. But if you try to escape," the man pulled out a large knife, "I can assure you that you will not get very far. We have a deal, oui?"

Arthur eyed the knife nervously and nodded. The man released him and Arthur nearly collapsed but supported himself against the wall behind him. Arthur quickly gathered his composure again, "Before this continues, could you tell me your name?"

The man cocked his head to one side in mock confusion, "But why would you need to know that?" Suddenly his expression grew dark and he seemed suspicious, "Perhaps you want to report me to the police?" His expression lightened again, "But that might just make things more fun~"

Arthur decided to proceed more cautiously, this man was clearly unstable, "I'm not going to call the police. It's just more polite if I have a name to call you if we are going to carry on a conversation."

"Ah, oui! I forgot how important manners are to you! Very well, I shall oblige the gentleman that you are, or claim to be. Je m'appelle Francis. You needn't know my last name, right?" Francis responded sweetly.

"Thank you, Francis. Now, what do you want with me?" Arthur asked slowly, still treading cautiously.

"Now, why do you assume that I want something with you? I merely noticed you seemed to be in a bad way and want to offer my help. I could give you a roof over your head, food in your belly, nice clothes, a new job, anything you could ever want!"

"What's the catch?" Arthur was extremely suspicious now. He had heard that pimps would often offer a new life to people and trick them into prostitution. If the person outright refused, they were taken by force. Arthur had been careful to avoid most people and to remain as unassuming as possible. Back when he had a good life, many people had told him how handsome he was, and even though he never believed them, he tried to hide himself as much as possible.

"There's that distrustful attitude again! Mais, I understand your worries. What you need to do for your end of the bargain is to help me at home, do favors that I need help with. I promise you it will not be too difficult, especially while you are recovering from the conditions you have been living in recently."

Arthur was still suspicious, this was something that was way too good to be true, "Alright, well... Thank you so much for the offer, but I must decline. But should I change my mind, I shall seek you out again." He turned to leave but felt Francis grab his forearm harshly. He felt something press against his neck; when he realized it was the knife, he froze.

"I believe I told you to not try to escape. Perhaps you did not understand the terms of that agreement, oui? You do not leave until I say you can. Try to leave again and I will be forced to take," he pressed the knife harder against Arthur's neck, drawing a little blood "serious measures. Mais I will let you off with a warning this time. Am I understood?"

Arthur was not only scared for his life, but surprised at the commanding nature of Francis' voice. The tone he used was one that couldn't be defied. _Maybe he's controlling me with his mind_ Arthur thought, but only half-jokingly. He nodded as best he could without causing the knife to cut him further and Francis released him, "May I go, then? I have already told you that I am not interested in your offer at this time, so do you have something else to discuss with me or do you just wish to stand here in silence for a bit?" _Dammit, now is not the time for sarcasm,_ Arthur mentally scolded himself.

Luckily for him, the Frenchman laughed, "You are not allowed to leave just yet, but I do encourage you to reconsider my offer. This is not something that any sane person would pass up."

"Being homeless doesn't do much good for mental health, perhaps I'm insane after all," Arthur mused.

"Honhonhon... Perhaps that is true. But this is not an offer an insane person would pass up either. But perhaps you require a bit of... persuasion..."

Before Arthur could respond, Francis had him pinned against the wall once more, but this time Francis was keeping him there with a passionate kiss. Arthur tried to protest, but when he opened his mouth Francis took the opportunity to insert his tongue and explore the crevices of the Brit's mouth. Arthur tried to push him away, but to no avail. Instead, he bit down on Francis' tongue. His attacker yelped in shock and retracted, just what Arthur had hoped for and he turned to run. But before he could take even two steps, he felt a sharp pain in his calf and collapsed. He reached back and felt the hilt of a knife. Arthur began to attempt to pull the knife out but was interrupted by the Frenchman.

"I wouldn't mess with it too much if I were you. That knife is the only thing keeping blood from spilling out of that wound. Not that it would kill you, oh no, I made sure to throw it into a spot that didn't hit any major vessels or arteries, but I'm sure it will leave a nasty scar. You might pass out from blood loss, and I have half a mind to leave you here if you do. An attractive young man like you, totally vulnerable in this part of town? Anything could happen..." Francis mused.

Arthur didn't doubt for a second that this man would follow through with what he said. He was mentally slapping himself for thinking he could get away just by biting this guy's tongue. Arthur nodded, but this time Francis didn't seem to buy it. He strode over and grabbed Arthur by the chin, "You keep nodding as if you understand, but you keep doing the opposite of what you agree to," Francis reached down with his other hand and started to slowly twist the knife, making Arthur cry out in pain, "It's starting to piss. me. off." He punctuated each word with a sharp twist of the knife, opening the wound a little bit more each time. Arthur bit his lower lip, trying to hold in tears. Francis stroked the young man's cheek with his thumb, as if trying to comfort him, but the sadistic grin on his face and his mocking tone told a different story, "I will not think less of you if you cry. I'm sure you are in a lot of pain. But this is nothing compared to what will happen if you continue to disobey me. Now, if you promise to actually listen and follow these deals we have made, and I'll fix up your injury. But if you disobey me one more time, I will actually punish you. Tu compris?"

Arthur started to nod, but Francis tightened his grip on his chin, stopping him. "Non, I want you to say it. Say what it is you are agreeing to so I know you really mean it and you understand."

Arthur struggled to get the words out, trying to ignore the burning pain in his leg, "I understand. I will obey the terms of the deals we have made. Now please, help me with my leg!" Tears had started rolling down his face as Francis was twisting the knife back and forth lazily as Arthur spoke.

A disturbing smile spread across the Frenchman's face, "Parfait, mon lapin. I think we shall get along wonderfully now~"

Translation time!:

Tu es très joli, tu pouvais être riche- You are very pretty, you could be rich.

Non- No (Just in case you didn't know this already)

Bien sûr- Of course

Oui- Yes (Just in case you didn't know this already)

Je m'appelle Francis- My name is Francis.

Mais- But

Tu compris?- You understand?

Parfait, mon lapin- Perfect, my rabbit.


End file.
